Pik-yin Tang

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A decade before Crouching Tiger, Jet Li was flying and spinning impossibly in this ninja/kung fu/sorcerer kinda story. Although it has none of the production values of the movies it inspired, The Legend of the Swordsman (actually a sequel to an earlier film, made with an entirely different cast) is often entertaining, though equally often is tiresome.

Li stars as Ling Wei, a member of a religious sect trying to get out of the world of violence. Of course, the sect stumbles upon a war and find themselves embroiled in it, replete with supernatural battles and high-flying choreography.

The West has Billy the Kid and the East has Wong Fei-hung... and if ever the twain shall meet I will lose all faith in humanity and moviemaking. [Check out Shanghai Noon. -Ed.] Wong Fei-hung, arguably the biggest folk hero in Chinese legend and cinema, has shown up in various movies and dime novels in China since the 1930s. In America, he's just begun to make a real dent... showing up via Jackie Chan in The Legend of Drunken Master and Jet Li in Once Upon a Time in China.

Master of just about any kung fu style out there and massive opponent of imperialism, the legendary Wong Fei is pretty much there whenever China needs him, and, when one of China's anti-imperialist generals goes off to resist the French Occupation of Vietnam, Wong Fei is set to train a local militia to ensure that the West doesn't overrun the country while the General is away. Wong, with the help of many a militiaman with a strange-translated nickname (like Porky or Buck Teeth), attempts to do so, but this being a movie, something had to go wrong. In this case, his militia men get involved in a street fight with a local mobster, Leung Fu (Biao Yuen), and just happen to fight their way into Wong Fei-hung's diplomatic dinner with the Americans.

The American action film has been slowly drowning to death in a sea of Asian wire-fu copycats. It's not a pretty death, and it's leaving the likes of Schwarzenegger, Stallone, and Van Damme wearing cement galoshes at the bottom of a kung fu sea.

Sometimes, the mix results in a mind-blowing spectacle unlike any other. Quality action with amazing and exciting stunt work, as in 1999's The Matrix, can be a real gem. But too often Hollywood gets it wrong, even when they pay off Chinese directors. Flying ninjas and floating karate masters have been replaced by soaring Bronx detectives and slow motion kicking scientists. Mostly it's laughable. In Hollywood's rush to emulate the success of The Matrix, trademark Asian stunt choreography has become more of a joke than an art form. But Iron Monkey, the latest Asian import, shows us how to get it right.